


Holder's Place

by Lilysmum



Category: The Killing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-17
Updated: 2014-02-17
Packaged: 2018-01-12 21:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1200562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilysmum/pseuds/Lilysmum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back to S2 Ep7 - Same events as 'My Place', but this time from Sarah's POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holder's Place

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't create these characters, but I obsess over them as if I did.

Holder’s Place

 

Jack argued about bedtime but ended up falling asleep quickly, reading from an issue of Road and Track that he found on the bedside table.   Thirteen is too old to be sleeping with his mother but he doesn’t mind sharing Holder’s king-size with me for one night.

 

Jack’s slept with me a lot in his life.  When he was little it was hard for me to get him to sleep on his own.  I worked shifts.  Leaving my son with a sitter during the day was one thing.  Leaving him with a sitter overnight was another whole level of guilt.  So when I was home at night more often than not we shared my bed. I told myself we both needed it.  He was about 10 before he started staying in his own bed every night.  Yeah. I know.  Mother of the Year, right?

 

As for tonight, Jack’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while. I mean, for a night spent in with adults it probably couldn’t have been much better.  Sushi.  Monopoly. Wrestling in the living room with Holder, the two of them laughing like loons.

 

But it wasn’t a good idea for us to come here tonight.

 

Seeing the two of them together like that shakes me up.  It’s something I can’t deal with right now, a can of worms I have to keep the lid on.  There’s just too many other things happening, I can’t afford to think about how my kid is with Holder.

 

Jack and Rick got along fine.  They sidestepped each other, there was no conflict, no competition, Jack was ok with Rick. Rick liked Jack well enough, liked him because he’s mine.

 

But how Jack is with Holder, I’ve never seen him like that with any adult, ever.  The two of them seemed connected the minute they met.  Tonight I asked them if they’d known each other in another life, or something, and they both looked at me like, oh, you figured that out?  They’re friends, equals almost – and each one thinks the other is _hilarious._ And Jack doesn’t need that.  Correction, Jack doesn’t need _to lose_ that, when things go back to normal.  Whatever that’s going to be.

 

The end result of seeing the two of them together is that I’m rattled.  My son has had to grow up without that male-bonding stuff, raised by a mother who works too much, her social-worker friend who worries too much, and too many babysitters. I don’t know what the long term repercussions of that will be, but they will be my fault.  Because when you are the only parent, _everything_ is your fault.

 

I was having a good year, parenting-wise, until we caught this case.  Everything was falling into place for us.  And now it’s all a mess and I’m going to have to fix it. Again. And explain, and apologize, for the hundredth time, to my still-so-far-resilient son.

 

Anyway, for tonight at least things are ok for him.  Jack’s down for the count, sleeping on his side facing away from me.  Fed, showered, tired out, safe and happy.  I guess today I’ve done alright by him.

 

He’s a perfect sleeper, Jack – doesn’t snore, talk in his sleep, or thrash around.  And he never gets up in the night.   I know this because I’ve spent years lying awake beside him.

 

Jack’s a perfect sleeper and I’m a different story.  I’m a terrible sleeper, a non-sleeper.  I mean, when I need to sleep, I sleep.  But I don’t need much, and _trying_ to sleep is a hassle I don’t need.  I could get so much done if I didn’t waste so much time trying to sleep.  But people around me can’t seem to handle this.  No matter who they are, everyone wants me to sleep. I cannot stand that – being pressured.  It’s none of anybody’s business, but I’ve learned that sometimes I have to go through the motions, to keep the peace with whoever.  I fake it till I make it, and sometimes it works. 

 

But not on nights like tonight.

 

Holder’s bed is a nice one, new and warm and comfortable. The bedroom is dark and quiet.  But inside my head, not.  Like I said – there’s just too many things going on. 

 

We have to solve this case and we’re running out of time. 

 

I have to sort things out with Rick - it’s not like I can just never see him again – I’ll have to at some point.

 

I have to spend some serious time with Jack – he’s been doing stuff he shouldn’t be – I have to get him settled, back on track.

 

 Also, Regi’s pissed with me – she thinks I’m losing it – I have to show her I’m ok or she’ll start interfering.

 

But the case, the case, the case.  It’s like a drumbeat, pounding, setting the pace for everything else.  We have to get through it before anything else can happen.

 

 It’s a nightmare now, and it keeps getting worse.  It’s obvious to us now that there are forces working to make sure we _don’t_ get to solve it, that it goes away, and we absolutely cannot let that happen.

 

Seattle PD is involved for sure – we saw Gil Sloan coming out of Carlson’s office today and he didn’t give a shit.  Bastard walked right by us looking like he’d just won some sort of a prize. And then tonight when I found that drawing on my fridge at the hotel – I freaked – I figured he’d been in there too. 

 

But now we know the Chief’s involved – I think it was her flunky, the dikey gal with all the hair, that was in my room because I think it’s her in the car that followed us here.  She’s still parked outside, watching us.  I think they’re trying to drive me crazy, or make it look like I’m crazy.  I mean, I can be, at times.  But I’m not now.  This shit is all real, what Gil did to Holder, to me, was just the start of it.  And I still don’t trust that little weasel that works for Richmond, either.  I think he knows something.

 

So you tell me, just how am I supposed to sleep? 

 

And all of this is without even considering the Holder Factor.

 

This, all of it, would be so much easier if we hadn’t had sex. 

 

Yeah.  We did, a couple of weeks ago.  In my car in the middle of the night in the parking lot of a boarded-up gas station.  It was so stupid.  No talking, no thinking, no condom, no nothing.  Holder started it but I’m the one that made it happen.  I felt terrible about it but I also think about it constantly and wonder when we will do it again. Jesus Sarah.

 

When I first came to bed tonight I could hear him moving around out there. He was in the shower first and later I heard some sports on tv, sounded like MMA, maybe.  It’s all quiet now though, the lights are off.  But I know he’s not asleep.  He’ll be watching that car, if it’s still there.

 

The sheets on his bed smell like him, just like him.  He’d wanted to change them but I’d told him no, they’re fine.  Because in truth I wanted to lie here and breathe him in – escape from all the shit for a minute.  Maybe even shut my eyes.  But that just made it worse, made me think about him even more.

 

It’s been a long time since thinking about a guy kept me up at night.  And any guy I ever thought about was not the Holder-type.  It was always the older guy, the quiet smart guy, the guy who would improve me.  Never the tall skinny class clown with the attitude, the guy whose jokes hid what was really going on with him.  The guy who tried to make you laugh, the kind and generous guy who expected nothing.  No, never that guy. Until now.

 

So yeah, it was a mistake to come here.  Should have just gotten us another hotel.

 

Because now I’m certain I will sleep with my partner again.  We’ve been good at keeping it together when we’re working.  But to be off the clock together, spending a night hanging out like normal people, doing normal things?  Even with Jack running interference the pull is relentless.  So not tonight.  But soon.

 

My phone on the nightstand tells me it’s after one.  I can’t lie here any longer.  My brain is just spinning.  I shouldn’t go out there and I shouldn’t see him but I’m going to do it anyway.  I need to see if that car is still there and if Holder thinks it’s who I think it is.  We need to make a plan for tomorrow - we couldn’t talk earlier with Jack there.  

 

I need to see him, I need to talk to him, I need a reset, I need a fix.

 

He’s on the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him, watching out the window.  He sits up and turns when he hears me, tells me he’s awake.  I’m at the end of the hall, just looking, and when I ask him why he’s still up, he tells me he’s going to sleep soon, and makes a crack about his bed being too soft for my hard ass.

 

“No, it’s good,” I tell him, “Jack’s out cold.”

 

He’s getting up now and he’s coming over here – Holder you should not do this – saying something about melatonin but that’s not what I need.  He’s hesitant though, for a minute I don’t know if he’s coming towards me or going into the kitchen but then he stops, right in front of me and I don’t even think,  I just move up to him.  He reaches out first though, he’s antsy, he’s also clearly happy to see me, puts one hand tentatively on my back.

 

“Little Man,” he says, so quietly, and there’s an edge to his voice, he thinks I’m about to do something crazy, I guess.  I can’t blame him for that.

 

“I know,” my voice is calm because suddenly, I am, “I just want…”

 

I turn around and lean my back up against him.  He steps back to the wall and leans back too, just resting there, holding onto me. Oh that’s it, that’s better.  Contact.  Another heartbeat, not just my own.

 

Holder’s forearm is across my chest, holding onto my shoulder from the front. I can feel the tension slipping out of both of us, the silence huge around us, nobody even breathes.  Then I feel him bring his face down to the top of my head and he sighs, and he breathes, and then I can too. He smells like soap and nicotine, all hard muscle under ratty black track pants and a t-shirt. I just need to feel his hand on me though, so I lift up my pjs and take his hand and slide it inside, onto the bare skin of my stomach, and hold it there, and this is perfect, this is just exactly right. His hand is warm and so big that both of mine fit on top of it, we’re both holding it there, pressing it into my skin.  It feels like he wants to move it but I doubt he will.

 

I know he’s thinking about the exact same thing I am.

 

It was late.  We were sick of it all.  Exhausted and frustrated and both needy I guess, kidding ourselves that the other one didn’t see it.  We didn’t even know each other yet – it was back when our relationship was mostly Annoying Pain in the Ass vs. Megabitch.

 

 I was driving and he started messing with my hair.  Actually, he took out my hair tie for me when I got it all tangled and then he started in with my hair.  And it felt good, okay.  After the day we’d had, anything felt good.  So he started going on, blah blah blah, about how he would not try to kiss me because we weren’t allowed to, being partners and whatnot, so not to get my hopes up, and why was I looking at him like that, did I miss that part of the orientation or something?  Partners are not allowed to be kissing, Linden, no sir, because it can cause problems in the relationship and affect our ability to do our jobs blah blah blah, they got _rules_ you know.

 

Holder can be kind of…compelling…or something… when he’s not busy pissing me off that is, and that day I’d really noticed it.  Never shuts up though.  By the end of a day with Holder your ears are bleeding.  And that night, he was talking and laughing so much, and I looked at him and for some reason I thought, I want to see what he does if I call him on his bullshit, I just want to see his face. So with no warning I pulled the car into the first lot that we came to and I just flat out asked him if he wanted to.  Well, it turned out he did.

 

 Within about two seconds he was kissing me like he _owned_ me. Like it was the be-all and end-all, the best thing, the only thing. And he was right.  It was so _easy._   Kissing him was like going down a slide or diving into warm warm water, and we just kept going deeper and deeper because it felt so freaking good. He has the hardest body – under those wigger clothes he’s all muscle and bones and angles - but he has the softest mouth.   

 

And his smell.  I never knew how good he smelled until I got up really close to him.  Half-clean, half-dirty, salty, smoky, like the earth, or the sea and the sand.  He was still laughing a bit then too – in between,  when we stopped to breathe, asked me what the hell was going on, and all I could think of to say was, that I never knew he smelled that good.

 

And he said “I don’t. But yo, Linden, feel free, knock yourself out.”

 

Once he realized that I meant it, that it was really happening, he got real serious and quiet and his eyes, I will never forget how they looked.  The pupils were huge and he looked like he was high.  And that was how I felt, doped, intoxicated, stoned on him.

 

He asked me twice if I was sure. 

 

He said I was gorgeous, he actually said that.

 

I was such a bitch the next day.  I was so angry at myself, guilty, mortified.  That celibacy thing that he’d had going was no joke.  And I was still _engaged_ to somebody else.  Still supposed to be catching a plane to my wedding.  What a screw up. You stupid girl.

 

I tried very hard to make it go away. But how do you make something go away when every single second of it is etched into your brain.  I could still _feel_ him. It was hard to think of anything else.  I was jonesing for a cigarette, snapping at everybody, and I couldn’t even imagine being with Rick again.  Not my best day.

 

Gorgeous.  Jesus.

 

Holder’s a good guy, I knew he wouldn’t say anything.  So I didn’t either, and by the day after that one it was ok again, with us.  Back to normal.  Better, really, he pretty much dropped the Slim Shady shit, with me anyway.  And I let him in a little, just a bit, sometimes. 

 

But then it all fell apart, with the case going the way it did,  and I couldn’t quite believe that about him but … what else could I think.  Little did I know Holder is the only one that tells the truth.  This case, it’s bounced us right back towards each other – and we’ve only got each other, we’re completely the fuck alone.

 

Anyway, I’m neither a pregnant woman nor a submissive puppy, I’ve got no right to make him stand here tonight with his hand on my belly.  I hope this has not made it a worse night for him.  Holder for his part actually seems pretty content, just standing here holding onto me, resting his face lightly against the top of my head.

 

It’s faint, but we both hear it – a car’s ignition, the tire-sounds as it reverses, turns, drives away.

 

The spell broken, I turn to face Holder, we lock eyes for a second.  And his eyes.  They’re so soft, on mine, I’m sure he can see right inside me.  God, what must he think of me, this crazy chick he got partnered with on his very first case.  I can’t look at him, it’s too much, so I move up to put my face against his chest, feel the thud of his heart, so close. My face is burning and I turn my head and that’s when he reminds me that my son is sleeping a few feet away. 

 

I step back, “Yeah,” I agree, and the look on his face now, it’s not fair, I never want to see his face like this.

 

“But soon Holder,” I tell him and this is good, oh, he likes this, as he steps away, trying to be cool, to hide the grin, tells me he’s ‘saving it’ for me.  It’s a relief, for a second, to smile.  This guy.

 

 He’s heading back to the couch, I’m going towards the bedroom. I’ll make sure he doesn’t have to save it for long.

 

“Is she gone?” I ask him, and it’s almost an afterthought, I forgot about her for a second. “It was her, right?”

 

He’s on the couch now, looking out.

 

“She’s gone Linden.  Get your sleep, girl.  I got this.”

 

I climb back into bed beside my son, who, of course, has not moved a muscle.

 

Tomorrow.  We should get some time tomorrow.  I have to get Jack situated in the morning, get us a better place with some security. And hopefully I hear from Ray early.  We can get over to that casino and kick ass. We’ll split up, I’ll send Holder in u/c, see what he can find out.  I’ll look around, talk to Miss Nicole, put that bitch on notice.  We could make some serious progress tomorrow.

 

Yeah.  Tomorrow should be a better night for us.

 

 Maybe tomorrow night I’ll sleep.

 

 

 

 


End file.
